


Another Night to Remember

by MyNameisG



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23489791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNameisG/pseuds/MyNameisG
Summary: Tharn takes care of Type, as he always does.
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 258





	Another Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! It seems I always need more domestic Tharn/Type fluff in my life, so this fic happened. I hope you enjoy. :) Please let me know if you do!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and make no profit from this.

“Where are you going?”

Type could hear the disappointment in Tharn’s tone as he eased away from him to get up from the bed. They’d spent the last half hour quietly entwined, Type resting with his head against Tharn’s chest. He didn’t want to disrupt the comfort of them sharing space, but he’d fought for the last fifteen minutes to ignore the gradual urgency of his bladder and now he couldn’t bear it any longer. 

“Bathroom,” he explained as he slid to the edge of the bed and unsteadily got to his feet.

Tharn was up and off the bed in an instant. “I’m helping you.”

Type looked down at his right ankle, which had been released from its ace-bandage prison for the first time in over a week. It wasn’t swollen anymore and the muscle aches in his calf had worn off the day before. Right now, putting his bodyweight on his foot actually felt okay. 

He waved Tharn off. “I’m fine. I can get there on my own.” He took a careful step around the side of the bed towards Tharn, who watched him like a hawk, looking as though he was ready to spring into action at any second. Type’s ankle held steady, and he continued, gingerly making it around the end of the bed. He was right in front of Tharn (ready to gloat about his progress) when his ankle decided it’d had enough and completely gave out. He stumbled into Tharn, who caught him immediately.

“I’m helping you,” Tharn repeated firmly, and this time Type didn’t argue.

Slowly, they walked towards the bathroom, Tharn holding Type under his arm, both supporting him and taking some of the weight off his ankle. “Does it still hurt?”

Type leaned into his boyfriend, grateful for the support on each step (though he’d never admit it out loud). “No, it’s just a little weak since I haven’t used it in a while.”

Tharn made a noise to indicate he understood as they steadily made their way into the bathroom. Tharn flicked the light on with his free hand and walked Type to the toilet. They stood expectantly for a moment, glancing at each other, Tharn still holding tight under Type’s arm.

Type looked at Tharn, playfully raising an eyebrow. “Are you gonna hold it for me too?” he asked.

Tharn loosened his grip, but did not let go of Type’s arm. He looked at him, and Type could see the honesty brimming in Tharn’s eyes. “I would if you needed me to,” he answered, and he was so dead serious that Type had to laugh.

“So…if I broke both my arms in another football accident—”

“Oy, Type! Don’t say that—”

“—then you would help me with everything? Put me in the bath and wash my entire body down? Cracks and crevices and all?”

Type watched the change in Tharn’s facial expression as he contemplated the question, watched as first the tiniest grin passed over his lips, then as his expression switched to something more seductive, something more akin to the expression he always wore when he undressed Type in the dark, undoubtedly some X-rated nonsense drifting through his mind. He made to reply, but Type snorted and cut him off before he could voice whatever ridiculous sex-related activity was floating through his head. 

“Never mind.” Tharn had already been up close and personal with all of Type’s nooks and crannies anyway, so the question was moot to begin with. 

Tharn bowed his head and laughed softly into his chest, unperturbed that Type wouldn’t let him actually answer. He then moved closer to Type, his expression fading back into sincerity. He was still gripping Type’s arm. He gently pulled him closer, the tip of his nose brushing Type’s cheek. “I would do anything for you, Type,” he said, leaning back to gaze at him with focused eyes.

Type’s heart squeezed the way it always did when Tharn spoke to him like that, when Tharn made him feel like he was the only person of any importance who existed in the world. He looked back at Tharn and crinkled his nose. “You made it mushy,” he complained, though the objection was half-hearted at best.

Tharn cocked his head, confused. “What?”

Type gestured to the two of them, still standing locked together in front of the toilet. “This.”

A satisfied smile crept over Tharn’s mouth, and he pulled Type even closer, his lips brushing Type’s cheek. He pressed a small kiss to his face and said, “I love you.”

Type crinkled his nose even more and breathed out a sigh. “Now you made it mushier,” he complained again, but he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face as well. He didn’t resist when Tharn gently turned his chin to kiss him.

It was slow and soft, and Type felt himself melting into it, melting into Tharn. Tharn let go of Type’s arm and pulled him in, against his body. He slid his hands into Type’s hair, and for a moment Type forgot that he was probably in the most unromantic place of all time – the bathroom, in front of the toilet, no less – and let Tharn take over, let Tharn’s movements claim him. Tharn’s kisses deepened, and Type clung to his shoulder, drinking him in, holding Tharn’s warm body against his own.

Then Type felt the unmistakable _pang_ of his bladder, and abruptly pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Tharn shifted back in concern to look him over.

It took Type a moment to come back to himself. After a breath he asked, “Can I pee now? I really have to go.”

Tharn’s concerned expression dropped off his face and he burst out with a laugh. He gave Type a quick nod, and after making sure he was sturdy on both feet, moved to the doorway to wait.

Type lifted the toilet seat and reached for the band of his boxers, then stopped, extremely aware of his one-man audience. He looked over at Tharn, who was still standing in the doorway.

“What?” he asked innocently.

Type huffed out a sigh. “I can’t go with you staring at me!”

It was Tharn’s turn to snort. “You had no problem going in front of me during our camping trip last month,” he reminded, turning to give Type some privacy, facing the inside of their bedroom instead.

Type sighed again, reached for his boxers, and this time started to go. “That’s because I had no choice,” he argued, welcoming the conversational distraction. “If your stupid compass hadn’t been broken, we wouldn’t have gotten lost on our hike, and we would have found the campsite that night instead of having to stick it out in the middle of the woods.”

Tharn chuckled from the doorway. “Ah yes, but then we wouldn’t have camped out in such a secluded area.” 

Type thought back to that night, remembered Tharn pulling the smashed compass from the depths of his hiking pack, the shocked look on his face as they both realized they were lost. His thoughts quickly shifted to how Tharn had looked in the darkness of their tent, his tender expression, smooth skin, how his dark eyes had shone in the moonlight as he spread Type out naked underneath him. Type could still feel Tharn’s breath on his skin.

“It was quite nice not having any neighbors around.”

Tharn’s voice brought Type back to the present. He finished and flushed, moving carefully to the sink to wash and dry his hands. He glanced at Tharn, who turned back to him, a devilish look in his eye. He licked his lips in a purposeful manner and moved to Type, supporting him once again under his arm. 

Tharn pulled Type close. “You were so loud,” he whispered appreciatively, brushing his nose against Type’s cheek once again.

Type felt his face flush – even after all this time, Tharn still elicited this reaction from him sometimes – and he bumped Tharn on the shoulder with his own, feeling a certain sense of pride deep down. That night had been amazing. The things Tharn had done to his body with just his mouth alone had left Type undone for the night, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Wanna recreate that night?” Tharn suddenly asked, his voice dropping a notch. “It’s still early.”

Type grinned and shook his head in disbelief. His stupidly handsome boyfriend was always ready to go, a fact he most definitely appreciated. “I don’t think I have it in me to go three rounds tonight,” he replied regretfully, gesturing to his ankle. They had been quite ambitious the night of the trip, in the way that only spontaneity could evoke. He looked at Tharn, whose smile was already dwindling, and dropped his voice to a note above a whisper. “But one round would be okay.”

Tharn’s face could have lit up the world. Swiftly, he picked Type up – picked him completely up off the floor, careful not to disturb his ankle – and carried him easily to the bed, where he set Type gently down and then crawled over him, settling against his body.

“You’re the best,” he sighed contentedly, snuggling into Type’s chest.

Type grinned and ran a hand through Tharn’s hair, enjoying the comfortable weight of Tharn’s long body against him. “I love you, too.” He tugged Tharn up for a kiss.

“You should sprain your ankle more often,” Tharn murmured against Type’s mouth. “A guy could get used to this.”

“I’m just old,” Type griped. “Four years ago this injury never would have happened.”

Tharn made a sympathetic noise and pulled him even closer, kissed him again. “Let me make it better,” he whispered, and promptly set about giving Type another night, in a list of many, to remember.


End file.
